


Antiques

by HerenorThereNearnorFar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 12:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7314796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerenorThereNearnorFar/pseuds/HerenorThereNearnorFar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allura rages, while Zarkon reminisces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antiques

**Author's Note:**

> Watched Voltron with my sister and got inspired enough to do this short piece.

Alfor's daughter had grown since the last time he had seen her. She had been very small then, a chattering little mouse in her father's arms at a diplomatic event. Tensions between the king and his Black Paladin had been high, but they were not enemies yet and Alfor had smiled as his daughter greeted each paladin with an infant princess's grace. 

"Thank you for your service to the galaxy, paladin." she had lisped, before being swept off to be coddled and nurtured as befitted a princess of her line. After that Alfor had been too angry, and then too scared, to let his precious little girl near Zarkon. 

She had looked- and now did look- like the spitting image of her father, just as she had been made to be. 

Her father's eyes, pupils cut with purple, her father's pale hair and dark skin. Altean angles in her chin and ears, Altean curves marking her eyes. A striking mixture, yes, even if the princess did not carry it as well as her father had. Taller now but still a child, with a child's rage. Screams about monsters and long lost worlds still rung in his ears, a fairytale fit for a princess of ages past. A child's story, where Zarkon was the villain. 

It seemed everyone was a child these days. The universe had grown abysmally young over the years. 

Alfor's daughter was likely one of the few beings left who could match him, and it was hard to take anyone seriously when you could remember them as an embryo. 

The Altean royals had not taken chances with their line of succession. Heirs were grown rather than made, Allura daughter of Alfor had no mother. One less thing the girl had had to lose when her civilization toppled. Alfor's genetic makeup had been swished around and mixed up with a few other components, then left to grow in only the finest of nutrient tanks. It was simultaneously barbaric and pretentious. Zarkon had not been able to hide his disgust when Alfor had called him to the chamber where the heir to an empire and custodianship of Voltron grew. 

A cluster of cells the size of his palm, wrapped in quintessence and just barely beginning to look like an actual child. 

"Isn't she beautiful, my friend?" Alfor had asked, and Zarkon had to admit he found the whole affair distasteful. Alfor had laughed. "It is ridiculous, but it's the safest way. She'll grow up to be something marvelous, part of the next generation. Allura will have to take over once we fade away."

The idea of obsolescence had been uncomfortable even then. 

“We have a long time till then.” Zarkon had said, and Alfor had agreed, and together they had left, as friends and allies, not as close as they had been as children but still amicable. 

There had been other state occasions, banquets for the birth of the princess, times when Alfor travelled through Galra space and stopped by to say hello, child in tow. Allura had always been a secondary consideration, another member of the vast entourage that constantly orbited the king of Altea. Another person to ignore. Alfor had been the important one. Alfor had been the person who needed to be consulted on matters of strategy and galactic politics. Alfor was the one he’d had to fight for every inch of progress. Alfor had rattled on about his daughter while Zarkon tried to put the galaxy to rights. Alfor had dandled a child on his knee while Zarkon led Voltron into battle, until Alfor grew too frightened of Voltron’s power and….. 

He doubted she even remembered him, so long ago had he been torn from his position and cruelly replaced. He toyed with the idea of telling her, of letting her see just how wise and foolish her father had been, but there was no point in playing mind games when victory was so close at hand. 

Alfor’s gentle heart and hesitant nature had delayed his victory for centuries, it was only right his daughter’s recklessness would bring it. 

He would be sure to gloat about that when Voltron was in hand. 

“Take Princess Allura back to her cell.” Zarkon ordered, and put the past aside along with the Altean princess.


End file.
